


Your Way With Words Is Through Silence

by freddiepreston



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Future Fic, M/M, brief mentions of past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:53:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3324848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freddiepreston/pseuds/freddiepreston
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere, their fighting turned into fucking, and Mickey was really, really confused at how he let that happen; how he let Ian in on this secret that could ruin Mickey’s entire life. The worst part was that Mickey felt like he could trust Ian to not breathe a word to anyone.</p><p>He knew he was fucked the minute he gave the gun back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Way With Words Is Through Silence

Most people who meet their future husband or wife in high school had an adorable, sappy meeting story attached to it. 'We met in chemistry, and we had chemistry ', or the ever cliched 'we literally ran into each other in the hallway and it was love at first sight!’ were stories that movies often portrayed as realistic but never actually happen outside of a script and studio. Mickey wasn’t an idiot, he knew it was unrealistic, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t subconsciously want something like that to happen to him when Mandy forced him to watch shitty high school rom-coms with her. He’d deny it even if there was a gun pointed at his head, but underneath his tough, rough, and dirty exterior, Mickey Milkovich was a massive sap; and maybe he did want his life to be like a shitty rom-com. But it wasn’t; his life was the furthest thing from a shitty rom-com, so he got over it. 

Sometimes Mickey let his mind wander to that part of his brain, though. The part that wanted to be loved and cared for and be able to love and care for someone else. And maybe sometimes he did want someone to keep him warm at night instead of his piss poor excuse of a blanket. But he knew even if by some miracle that he found someone that he might be able to do that stuff with, it wouldn’t work out; because he was a gay kid living with a raging homophobe that would have no problem killing Mickey with his bare hands. So instead he forced himself to believe love didn’t exist - looking at the relationships Mickey’s seen in his life, it wasn’t hard - and moved on with his life. 

-

The first time Mickey really met Ian Gallagher, he wanted to kill him. He wanted nothing more than to gut Ian like a fucking fish for putting his disgusting hands on Mandy. No one touches his sister without getting the living shit beaten out of them. Mickey and his brothers tried for days to get Gallagher; to bash his face in and castrate him for trying shit on Mandy, but the kid wasn’t showing his face anywhere. And suddenly, Mandy called them off. 

Mickey was skeptical at first but knew better than to pry into Mandy’s life, so he left it. But then Mandy started coming home with Ian following behind her, laughing like they were best fucking friends or something, and Mickey felt the need to protect his sister.

 

He began to rob the Kash and Grab more than the other stores he used to frequently steal from. Luckily for him, the owner was a pussy and wouldn’t do fuck all to stop Mickey. He got to keep his eye on Gallagher and get his grocery shopping done in one go. What could possibly go wrong?

While not completely unexpected, getting a gun pointed at him by the pussy owner wasn’t necessarily the highlight of his day, but being able to disarm him so easily was a little higher on that list. After that Mickey continued his business as usual before leaving the store - and an anxious looking Kash - with a new gun and his groceries for the week.

Ian Gallagher showing up in Mickey’s room at balls AM with a tire iron in his hand was the one thing that caught Mickey off guard.

“I want the gun back, Mickey!” Ian said angrily. Mickey wished that he was being a little quieter, partially because he was half asleep and hungover, partially because he really didn’t need Terry to wake up and get involved. 

Mickey responded in the only way he knew how - violence. 

To his surprise, Ian fought back. The skinny, lanky kid could put up a fight, and maybe it turned Mickey on a little.

Somewhere, their fighting turned into fucking, and Mickey was really, really confused at how he let that happen; how he let Ian in on this secret that could ruin Mickey’s entire life. The worst part was that Mickey felt like he could trust Ian to not breathe a word to anyone.

He knew he was fucked the minute he gave the gun back.

-

They continued fucking after that with no feelings attached, mostly because it was convenient - there was a hot guy a couple block from Mickey willing to fuck him and not tell a soul. Where is the problem? - but also because any type of relationship between them as too risky. Anyways, fuck love. 

But still, Mickey found it hard to not start to care for Ian. He was like a little puppy - he was annoying as hell, but he grew on you. Mickey would never admit to having feelings for anyone, but he had a massive fucking crush on Ian Gallagher. As it turns out, Ian thought he was pretty great, too, and the thought made Mickey want to vomit.

-

Four years, two trips to juvie, two bullet wounds, a near death experience, a fake wife, a baby, and coming out to a bar full of people including his homophobic dad is all it took for Mickey to finally admit that they were a couple. Ian was stunned it didn't take more, but he wasn't about to say anything about it. He was counting his lucky stars; thing were finally looking up for him - for them. 

And then Ian couldn't get out of bed the next morning, and it all went to shit. Ian knew exactly what was happening to him - had assumed it and repressed the thought multiple times over the last few months. He figured Mickey wouldn't stick around for this shit show; he had enough people to take care of, he didn't need to add Ian to that list. It made Ian want to stay as far away from Mickey as possible, which was kind of hard, considering he physically couldn't make himself get out of bed. But Mickey didn't leave, or kick him out, or ignore him, or hate him like Ian thought he would. Mickey helped him. 

Mickey would sit at the edge of Ian's bed and talk to him with this soft, caring voice that didn't really suit him, but Ian loved anyways. He always wanted to reply, wanted to say 'yes, I'd love a sandwich,' or 'please let's go for a run' just so Mickey would stop looking at him the way he did but he couldn't lie to him. Hell, he could hardly talk at all - what was the fucking point, anyway. He just felt empty; he wanted to lay in bed for the rest of his meaningless life alone, and not drag Mickey down with him. He didn't deserve it. But Mickey wouldn't leave, wouldn't let Ian wallow in self-pity without at least trying to get him out of bed once. And as much as he hated it at the time, he thanked him countless times and appreciated it after the fact.

That was the first time Ian really thought that Mickey was it for him, and that he was it for Mickey. 

-

Life was rough, nobody was going to argue that. There were peaks and valleys, and with Ian’s bipolar disorder, they’ve seen the top of each peak and the bottom of every valley. Lip and Fiona doubted Mickey would last as long as he did with Ian, because why put himself through this if he didn’t have to? It didn’t make sense to them - fuck love, keep your sanity instead. But Mickey never once thought of leaving Ian; wouldn’t ever let it cross his mind. They’d argue and kiss and fight and fuck and repeat the cycle over again the next day and that was more than enough for them. No one else had to understand the ironic stability that Ian and Mickey lived in.

Ian was at the right dose of medication at this point, two years from his first depressive episode. All was well and has been for a while. Mickey, Ian, Mandy, Svetlana, and Yevgeny were all living in comfortable harmony with each other in the Milkovich house, and they were happy. Terry getting locked up on some unknown charges that got him ten years added to the tranquil state of the household. They all seemed to quickly adapt to the domestic lifestyle as soon as Terry got put away.

There was one day in particular that Mickey remembered, mostly because every time he walked in his room he was reminded of it. Everyone else was out of the house overnight for whatever reason, so he and Ian were taking full advantage of that. Mickey was almost disgusted at how domestic they'd become when he realized they'd been alone for three hours watching movies and hadn't even thought of jumping each other yet. Well, he would've been disgusted if he didn't love if so much. 

At some point the couple made their way to their bedroom and filled the house with sounds of skin against skin and the smell of sex.

After laying in bed basking in the afterglow for ten minutes, Ian decided to get up and maybe clean up a bit. It was only in that moment that he realized their room was absolutely filthy, courtesy of Mickey Milkovich himself. Food wrappers on the floor, clothes pushed under the bed. Ian was sure that if Mickey's dad was still here there may even be a body hidden under all the shit littered everywhere. Ian shook his head as he got a couple tissues to wipe himself and Mickey down. "Why are you such a pig, Mick?" Ian asked. 

"You know, your dirty talking ability has really gone down over the years." he replied.

"I'm serious! Look at this place, is there even a floor anymore?" 

"Hey, those are your fucking clothes over there," Mickey pointed. "Yeah, where you fucking threw them." Ian teased. Mickey shrugged as he opened a window and lit his cigarette. 

"Whatever man, you're the one who has a problem with it, you fucking clean it." 

"Fine," Ian said as he started to clean. 

The more shit Ian picked up off the floor, the more Mickey noticed that the mess actually bothered him, but he wasn't going to breathe a word of that to Ian. He also noticed that it smelled like ass and suddenly wished he bought Febreze like Mandy told him to. He opted for opening a few windows to air the place out. 

Mickey didn't remember falling asleep, but judging from the light shining through the window and the bedside clock telling him it was eight am, he figured he must have. He also noticed Ian was half on top of Mickey, which wouldn't have bothered him if it didn't restrict him from any possible movement he could make. 

"Hey, you awake?" He whispered to Ian. 

"...No..." He heard the drowsy reply come from Ian's head in his shoulder. 

"C'mon man, get up before I piss on you,"

"Is that an offer?"

Mickey suppressed a chuckle and forced Ian off of him to make his way to the bathroom. He walked back five minutes later to see Ian putting track pants on over the boxers he slept in. Surprisingly, his ridiculously hot half naked boyfriend wasn't the first thing Mickey noticed.

“The fuck is that doing there?" He pointed to the wall. Ian turned to see what he's looking at and smiled. " I found it under your bed," 

"I took it down for a reason, Ian" Mickey replied sharply, looking at the piece of lined paper turned sideways with 'fuck love' scrawled on it in permanent marker hanging over his bed frame. A work of art, it was. 

"Oh yeah? And what reason is that?" Ian smirked. "I'm not an angsty teenage closet case anymore, dumbass, take it down."

"Or..." Ian started silently walked to the bedside table and pulled out a permanent marker, climbing on the bed and drawing on the paper that hung there.

"Or what?" Mickey asked impatiently. Ian moved away from the page smiling and Mickey had to move closer to see what he drew. 

A comma.

A fresh, black curve now sat in between the words 'fuck' and 'love' and suddenly giving the page an entirely different meaning. Mickey laughed and actually smiled at that. His boyfriend was such a stupid fucking dork. Mickey vocalized this opinion. "Yeah, well you choose to put up with it, not me." Ian pulled him into a hug, kissing the top of Mickey's head. “Too late to go back now, ain’t it?” He mumbled into Ian's shoulder. Ian smiled into the other boy’s hair, knowing what he meant. After all these years Mickey still had trouble get those three words out but Ian didn’t mind. They say it every once and while, but they the words hold more meaning unspoken, anyway.

-

A couple years later, the Gallaghers, Balls and important Milkoviches were at the Gallagher’s house to celebrate Ian’s twenty-fifth birthday. It was hard to believe that Ian was twenty five, and almost harder to believe he and Mickey had being somewhat together for about ten years now, holy shit. If he was honest, Mickey wasn’t even sure if he’d still be alive ten years from then. It made him think of same lame sentimental shit about how Ian gave him a purpose or whatever. He pushed it away to avoid being a complete sap.

But honestly, Ian’s twenty-fifth wasn’t that big of a deal. It was just another day the Gallagher’s used as an excuse to drink excessively and party (not that they needed one). It was just another, regular day in their lives. Until Fiona opened her mouth and sent Mickey on a downward spiral into crisis. 

“Who would’ve thought my little brother would be the first to get married. To Mickey Milkovich, nonetheless.”

Ian and Mickey both snapped their heads towards Fiona, who sat on the couch while they were squashed together on the chair. (“What’s the difference? You spend all your time in Ian’s lap, anyway,” Mandy had said when Mickey complained. Fucking Mandy). 

“We’re not married.” Ian replied

“Pretty much are,” Fiona shrugged. “I mean, Mickey, you’re family to us. And Ian. And you live together and yeah, you might as well be married,” 

She said it like it was no big deal. She said it as if Mickey’s mind didn’t suddenly start sifting through the lost files in his brain labelled ‘Why I’m Not Good Enough’. He hadn’t felt that way for a while, but fuck. Sometimes certain things just jolted him back to that mindset that he just wasn't enough. A part of him knew that Ian didn't see things the same way; that Ian didn’t look at him like he was the reason the stars shined because he was settling. But insecurity was never rational, and Mickey was irrational to begin with.

He couldn’t marry Ian. If he married Ian everything was secured and locked in and Mickey didn’t want to feel like he and Ian were in a vault. They were free to do what they pleased right now, and they choose to be only with each other. If they got married and ten years later Ian decided, no, I don’t want this, it’s easier to go fuck someone in boystown three times a week and hide it than it is to get divorced. What they have now is working, why fix something that isn’t broken. Plus, Svetlana and him are still married, and she’d be deported if they got divorced. 

(Mickey ignores the voice telling him if Svetlana is an illegal immigrant their marriage isn’t filed with the state, meaning that legally, he’s a free man. It’s easier to blame Svetlana.)

He shrugged his shoulders and said nothing, and thankfully Ian did the same. He could tell that Ian and Fiona were exchanging looks behind his head but he pretended to not notice. It didn’t matter, he couldn’t do it. They were good now; Mickey loved what they had now, no need to change anything.

They spent the night at the Gallaghers in Lip’s old bedroom and Ian was abnormally quiet. The kid never shut the fuck up and now suddenly he was mute and Mickey knew exactly why. He didn’t want to bring it up - more than anything he wanted to forget it happened - but Ian was upset and it made him feel guilty and he how could he not even try to cheer him up?

“What’s up with you, man? Taking a vow of silence or something?” Mickey asked as they settled into bed.

“No, I’m just tired,” Ian said, but Mickey knew it wasn’t all true. It was never just that easy with Ian and Mickey hated it almost as much as he loved it.

“Mhmm, when you’re ready to talk let me know.” he replied rolling over and ‘trying to sleep’, pretty much waiting for Ian to start talking. It was inevitable that it would happen, but the amount of time Ian spent silent dictated how serious he actually was. He usually only took about a minute or two before talking, and the longer he took to talk, the more time he took to think, thus the topic was more serious.

It took almost twenty minutes before he started talking.

“Why are you so against marriage?”

“I’m not against marriage,”

Even though his back was to him, Mickey could feel the ‘oh really’ look Ian was sending him.

“I’m not! I just don’t see a point in it,”

“I like the idea of it, though. Being married with rings and joined bank accounts and whatnot. Kind of sweet.” Mickey let out a huff and Ian figured he wouldn’t say much else, and continued talking himself. “We should do it. Get married.”

“Ian…”

“We should. Just get a couple rings and fill out the forms, it’ll be fun.”

 

“Why should we do that?”

“You didn’t get me a birthday gift!” 

“The blowjob I gave you was gift enough,” Mickey replied with his face half in the pillow. 

“Marrying me wouldn’t be that bad, would it?” Ian almost whispered and Mickey felt like shit again. Ian sounded tiny and completely unlike his six feet self and it was Mickey’s fault. It was Mickey’s insecurities that led to Ian’s insecurities and Mickey couldn’t do anything about it. It was his mind-to-mouth filter; the way things came across that he could never control. It was the reason he couldn’t marry Ian.

“We’re not talking about this now.” Mickey said, ending their conversation. 

He knew it wouldn’t last. 

-

Ian kept bringing up the topic whenever Mickey was least expecting it. at meals, before bed, in the middle of Jeopardy, even. Mickey wasn't sure if he was angrier that Ian mentioned it again or that it knocked him off his game. 

It was a Tuesday afternoon when Ian brought it up for the fifth time in two weeks and Mickey could not believe that this was how he was spending his day off. "I think you and Svetlana should get divorced. She could still live here and all but make it less legal, you know?"

"We're not talking about this right now," 

"You always say that," 

"I'm about to go down on you, we are not fucking talking about this." Mickey tried sternly. 

Ian dropped it long enough to come down Mickey's throat but no more than ten minutes later he was at it again. 

"So, since your mouth is dick free now..."

Mickey sighed. "Ian, please stop doing this."

And Ian looked hurt. He had this look in his eyes that made Mickey's skin crawl with guilt because holy shit, that my fault. It's his fault for not being enough. 

The passing thought was enough to piss him off. He spent years getting past that. He told himself countless times Ian wouldn't stick around if this wasn't real; he would've left when Mickey was a mess. They've seen the worst each other had to offer and they still stick together because they want too They're in love, and that's something Mickey spent ages telling himself he deserved. That he deserved Ian. Terry dedicated his life to making Mickey hate himself and everything he was, but somehow Ian helped him past that. Ian made him want to love himself, because he wanted to be the best version of himself he could be. For Ian. 

And now Mickey could feel himself revert back to his old mindset. Where he wasn't good enough, was cold to people he cared about; it was the version Mickey hated more than anything, but he couldn't stop it. It was who he was underneath, after all. Underneath the shitty low end apartment and upbeat lives they've been living in for a while, Mickey is just a sad excuse for a life, and that Mickey, he couldn't marry Ian; he didn't deserve it. 

Ian didn't deserve it, either. He deserved the world on a silver platter and all the stars in the sky. Ian deserved the best of fucking everything and Mickey couldn't give him that. 

Mandy once explained to him that everyone relationship had a settler and a teacher. "If you get into a relationship, always be the reacher. Don't settle for some asshole who barely gives you the time of day. Been there, done that - it's better being alone. Always reach, never settle." She had told him. He promised her that he would never settle, though at the time he thought he'd be killed for being in a relationship, so he never thought he'd need to. But now that he was in one, Mickey felt guilty for even thinking making Ian settle for him. He was the reacher, holding Ian down as he settled for Mickey when he could do so much better. 

Ian stopped bringing it up, and Mickey thinks it almost hurt more. 

\- 

He hates how close Ian is with his family, because they're all looking at him like he have Ian a black eye or something. He guesses in a way he has, except the bruises are more internal and hurt more than any black eye he's had before. 

The thing is, Mickey is used to pain, and so is Ian. Both their lives have been constant waiting for the next bloody nose or broken rib, but that was just growing up in the South Side. They both had fathers who only showed their affection with fists, and it was probably why they understood each other so much. They were both damaged goods, and neither was trying to fix the other - they weren't broken, just beat. 

To this day, Ian still doesn't know much about the Milkovich home life. Obviously, Terry beat his kids, but that's all he knows. He's expierienced it first hand - nearly left with a bullet in his chest - but he still doesn't know what Mickey went through. He doesn't know that Mickey sleeps with a hand in a fist out of habit, or that he never opens a door unless he's ready to fight. Ian probably doesn't know that all of his defensive habits were completely futile, because he never got the chance to hit his dad back. 

Mickey never really focused on all the verbal attacks from Terry too much because they caused less of a mess. The old fuck loved the sound of his own voice and hated Mickey, and enjoyed telling him as such. It left Mickey feel useless and worthless for his whole life, and he didn't really think he deserved anything like what he has now. 

Ian doesn't ask, and Mickey doesn't tell. It was their silent agreement to never mention Terry. 

The look Fiona's giving him makes Mickey's hands ball into fists because she doesn't understand, she will never understand what he's thinking, and she needs to stay the fuck out of it. 

At the same time, Mickey understands her, because he'd do the same for Mandy regardless of the reason. 

He loosened his fists and pretended nothing was wrong. 

-

Ian wasn't right for a while and Mickey knew why. He felt down, but he could function and Mickey hated himself a little bit more everyday. Mickey cared for Ian so fucking much it killed him. He would pull the moon out of the sky for Ian but he couldn't marry him, and he hated it so much. He hated that he couldn't read Ian's thought; about why it was so important to him, but it didn't matter, not really. Because he knew that Ian wanted it, and he would do whatever he had to to give Ian what he wanted. 

-

It took six months for Mickey to hype himself up to even fathom being married to Ian. He figured that nothing would change except a ring on their left hands, but legally, it wasn't a big deal. If he thought of it sentimentally, well, it was a really fucking big deal. 

Getting married meant giving sharing everything with Ian, including Ian in everything he did. It was like they were two parts of a machine that now functioned as one, and it was kind of scary. But they didn't function on their own, not in the same way. 

Ian was like an engine. A car won't run without its heart, and Mickey won't run without Ian. Mickey was more like the car itself. He was the hard exterior that protected the engine, because it was the most important part. 

Mickey was pissed off that he had to think of a stupid car analogy to realise that yeah, he really fucking wanted to marry Ian.  
-

The first thing he did was talk to Svetlana. Their licence wasn't filed with the state, no, but he still felt wrong marrying someone else when he was kind of already married. 

"I want to marry Ian," is all he said to her. They were sat on the couch after Svetlana put Yevgeny to bed. Some game show was playing on the television at a really low volume, but neither of them were paying attention. There was a certain thickness to the air that Mickey hated, but even after him and Svetlana become kind of friends, it never went away. 

She shrugged and replied. "You help with Yevgeny, I do not care. "

Their conversation ended and they sat in a somewhat silence as Mickey realized that there was nothing in the way of him marrying Ian, and he was fucking terrified. 

\- 

 

Mickey was never really good with words, and especially not with romantic gestures, so proposing to Ian traditionally was out of the question. He couldn't get down on one knee and say 'Ian Clayton Gallagher,' without wanting to tear out his trachea and shove it up his ass. Mickey wasn't a character in one of Mandy's lame rom-coms, and he didn't want his life to mirror one anymore. He had all needed in his current life, and god damn it, he just wanted to propose without being a walking cliché. He wasn't going to take Ian to his favourite restaurant on their ten year anniversary or anything - it wasn't them. 

It took him another couple months and a few hundred dollars, but Mickey was finally ready to pop the question and potentially bury himself alive. 

It wasn't that Mickey thought Ian would say no - unless he was being a shit to get revenge on Mickey - but it was still nerve wracking as fuck. He was proposing to someone who meant the world to him, and it was scary, although it shouldn't be. Nothing will change, he told himself for the thousandth time since deciding he was going to go through with this. If you fuck up Ian will probably just think it's cute. 

And with that, he set his plan into action.

-

"Are you going for a run tomorrow?" Mickey asked as they were in bed that night. Despite his lack of pants, he could still feel the phantom weight of the ring against his thigh, and it made his heart speed up. 

"Yeah, obviously, tomorrow’s my day off. Why?" Ian replied. 

"I wanna go with you,"

"Mickey Milkovich awake at six am for a run that has nothing to do with drugs?" Ian joked. "Never thought I'd see the day,"

"Yeah, yeah, fuck off. "

" You can't get enough of me,"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"You're so in love with me," Ian sighed contently, tightening his grip around Mickey, who had his head resting on Ian's chest. Mickey's glad that their positions aren't reversed, because Ian would ask Mickey if he needed medical help with how fast his heart was beating. 

"Kinda," Definitely. 

-

Mickey almost trashed the entire plan when he actually got woken up at six am and could hardly function. He waved Ian off and decided to not go for a run, because fuck that. He could make another excuse to leave the house. 

When Ian came home a couple hours later, he found Mickey was still in bed. He shook his head and went to go make them eggs for breakfast, like he did most mornings. It was a pretty average day to Ian. 

But it wasn't to Mickey. He hadn't actually been sleeping when Ian came home - hadn't slept most of the night, in fact. He'd been hoping that by pretending to sleep all night he'd actually fall asleep with no such luck. What the fuck ever, it'll be over by tonight anyway. 

-

Mickey was dealing with his anxiety quite well, he thought. He legs were only bouncing as much as they normally do, didn’t shake extensively, and he wasn’t weird and disconnected or anything.

They had just finished dinner when Mickey suggested going for a walk. Ian found it kind of weird that Mickey randomly decided to go outside for more than a few minutes - it was mid-October and nearly sixty degrees fahrenheit, which for Mickey and his horrible circulation, was really fucking cold - but agreed nonetheless. They cleaned up and headed out within ten minutes.

They walked around their old neighbourhood for the sake of reminiscing. Of course there were bad memories, but they tried to replace them with the good ones they had like the baseball diamond. They laughed and got silent but it was never unsatisfying, it was kind of nice, if they ignored certain details of what happened there.

(And when those bad memories were in the forefront of their mind, Ian suggested going to the baseball diamond again and making some good ones.) 

Eventually they got around to where the Kash and Grab, and not for the first time, Mickey was glad Ian was an extremely observant person. “What the fuck?” Ian said, pointing to a graffiti-covered building.

Years ago, when Mandy had Mickey after Ian, the older boy had spraypainted ‘Ian Gallagher is a deadman’ on the side of that exact building. It had been something they laughed at after they got together but scared Ian shitless the first time he saw it. But it wasn’t the same now as it was ten years ago.

Usually the paint was faded; dull, but was now a bright red as if someone had gone over it. It had obviously been repainted, and whoever did it crossed out ‘a deadman’. Seemed pointless to Ian, really, but people down here weren’t the brightest and got bored easily. He probably would’ve done the same if it didn’t have some type of sentimental value to him. “Is it bad that I’m kind of offended this person doesn’t want me dead?”

Mickey smiled and shrugged before replying. “It’s alright man, I can fix it.”

He reached over to the spray cans that he placed earlier and fix what he ruined.  
With shaky hands, Mickey wrote his message out on the wall.

Ian looked at the building in some kind of blissful shock as he read out the new message, ‘Ian Gallagher is my husband’. He went to stand beside Mickey and put his arm around his shoulder as he desperately tried to get his voice working again. “Ian Gallagher is your husband, eh?”

“I’d like him to be, yeah,” Mickey said, looking up at Ian with shy eyes. 

“Are you sure?”

 

Mickey shrugs. “I’m sure that I’ll never love someone as much as I love you.”

And Ian laughs, he fucking laughs and it’s the most beautiful sound Mickey has ever heard. He could hear Ian’s laugh on a constant loop for the next sixty years and he wouldn’t ever get tired of it.  
“ Who would’ve thought that Mickey Milkovich would be such a romantic?”

And Mickey laughed at that because, fuck, when did he become such a sappy git? He figured it couldn’t be unbearable with the way Ian is attaching his lips to Mickey’s. 

When they pulled away, Ian whispered something like I’d love to be your husband or equally cute and disgusting before suggesting he and Mickey go home to celebrate. 

Mickey was too stunned to move for a minute, because how fucking ridiculous was this night, and he hardly thought about what he was going to say before he called Ian’s name out. Ian turned around to look at him, and Mickey chucked the box that contained Ian’s ring in it at his face, because fuck traditions. 

Ian’s smile was bright enough to light up even the darkest corners of the world.

-

Mickey’s life wasn’t a rom-com; wasn't scripted or recorded for others entertainment. It sucked at times, and he stormed out of the house or slept on the couch a few more times than he’s willing to admit, but it was the only life Mickey wanted to live. he had Ian, he had Mandy and Yev and Svetlana, and he didn’t need anything else. He didn’t want anything else. He enjoyed their life of peaks and valleys and he loved how they argued and kissed and fought and fucked and nothing changed.

If twenty-eight Mickey told a sixteen year old Mickey that one day he’d fall in love and love his life, he would’ve said ‘fuck love’. Current day Mickey says the same thing, but it’s more of a to-do list than anything else.

Fuck, love.

**Author's Note:**

> this took way too long to write 
> 
> The 'Ian gallagher is my husband' bit was based off a fanart I saw and can't find so if you have the link please tell me!!!
> 
> also this is for jasmine who made me write this like two months ago. happy valentines day b


End file.
